


You Can Pin and Mount Me Like a Butterfly

by circumlucent



Category: London Spy
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Frottage, Gucci Rush, M/M, Pretending to sleep, perfumes, sex on the sofa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23927617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circumlucent/pseuds/circumlucent
Summary: "I won't move. I won't release myself. I will stay pinned here, as long as you want me to.”
Relationships: Danny Holt/Alex Turner
Kudos: 17





	You Can Pin and Mount Me Like a Butterfly

One of the first things he learnt about Danny was that he was a tease. He knew exactly what to do in the exact moment it needed to be done. He knew what reactions to expect from him, how to react back. Out of experience, one would argue. Alex had always perceived his own lack of experience as a necessary burden: he had made choices he was not proud of, but at the time they seemed the only way out of a stifling family. Too young to mess around and, once grown up, too old and hopeless to give voice to his desires. During their evenings together, he looked at Danny – always youthful in his crewneck knitted sweaters, the delicate bones showing just under the collar, in his slightly baggy jeans and canvas shoes – and wished they had met earlier.

Alex couldn't quite control himself when Danny willingly teased him: he sensed what was about to happen but couldn't stop himself from wanting it. He didn't want to stop himself. He had waited long enough not to dwelve into the exciting world of opportunities Danny had brought him into. One thing he had learnt, though: it was a sort of intellectual exercise he did in his own mind when he noticed the teasing signals coming from his lover. It could be a shirt Danny wore (usually the dark blue one with snap buttons), an amused tone in his voice, a joke or a smirk, the way he kissed him when his work day was over, or a perfume he wore. He knew that the red square bottle (was it a bottle? It looked like a video tape cassette) was one of the main triggers. When Danny wore it (Alex called it “slutty perfume” in his head, but he never ventured to say it aloud), teasing and more were coming. In the morning, he often looked at it while getting ready for work: he brushed his teeth and looked at it, the shiny red box, secretly hoping Danny would reach for it.

That night he was sitting on the sofa, curled up in a corner, reading an old edition of Asimov's _Second Foundation_. He was almost falling asleep but had promised Danny to stay up for him. It was Wednesday, which meant late night: Danny had left early in the morning to go to work and wouldn't be back until past midnight, after his last lesson at evening school. He checked the time on his watch: he would just stay there, eyes closed, head resting on a cushion, but alert.

Danny found him asleep on the sofa. He tried not to wake him but got close to look at him. He was about to leave a tiny kiss on his forehead when Alex grabbed him by the wrist. Danny jumped. Damn! Alex was like one of those wild animals who pretend to sleep while waiting for their prey to get closer.

“I was waiting for you,” and he smiled a shy smile.

“God, you scared the shit out of me!”

“I know," Alex replied. "You're easy to impress,” and smiled again.

Danny sat next to him on the sofa and Alex slowly took his peacoat off: this time he foretasted his lover's reaction before it happened. Danny drew him nearer and kissed him. Alex relaxed into that kiss and took his time to kiss back: he had waited for this all day.

Tasting the warmth of Alex's mouth was an anticipation Danny enjoyed immensely: feeling his lover opening up for him, losing his stern countenance, surrendering part of his control and putting it in his hands was something pure, beautiful.

They were kissing and Alex realised he was smelling Danny's skin. There it was, the artificial dirty smell of gardenia and patchouli. He smiled an inner naughty smile and enjoyed what was about to happen. No second thoughts: London was glistening under a cool winter rain behind the windows, the world was turning and he was burning up. He took his own sweater and t-shirt off at once and met Danny's mouth again. The boy was waiting for him, his own desire reverberating through him.

His hand went on Danny's crotch: he could feel his erection building up, a mirror to his own reaction. Pressing his fingers in Danny's flesh and touching his skin left no notice in his mind, already focused on what would come next. He wanted to tell Danny his slutty perfume made him hard, that he wanted to be fucked hard, but he couldn't. Too afraid to be judged, too scared to lose him. His words failed, but the body was his language. Without waiting for Danny to do it, he took his own pants off, then lied back on the sofa, slightly opening his legs, waiting. Glorious in his nakedness, aware of every fibre of his body, eager mouth and impatient hands. He grabbed Danny's ass and pushed him towards him: he wanted to be pinned down, pretending to be forced to take it. He wanted it so badly but didn't know what to do to make it clear.

When Danny saw Alex taking his own pants off, he knew something was happening. Alex had always waited for Danny to make the first move, even if he desperately wanted to be bolder. Now he was lying there, deliciously ready, basking in his own nakedness, legs slightly parted. Danny went down on his lover, chest pressing on his chest. He grabbed the other's dick, already leaking, and licked his pre-come off his fingers, then kissed him, making him taste both of them in his mouth. He felt burning inside. He slowly started grinding his dick on Alex's. Painfully slowly. His own dick leaked, pre-come glistening on their bellies, but he didn't stop. It wanted it to be torturing, teasing, painful.

He grabbed Alex by the wrists and pinned them down, pressing them together just above his head. In that moment, he saw a bewildered look in Alex's eyes and a fleeting moment of fulfilment.

“You won't dare to move, will you?” and the other said no.

“No, I won't move. I won't release myself. I will stay pinned here, as long as you want me to,” Alex repeated to himself.

Smelling sex on Danny was now achieving its effect: the boy's sweaty skin was hot, and Alex could smell that slutty scent in full force.

“I want your smell on me. I am your slut,” he thought, and moaned again.

He was so wet, so out of his mind, so on the verge of losing control, but he wanted it to happen over and over again. That sense of anticipation, feeling the orgasm building, wanting it so badly, but trying to push it back to make it last longer. Yet their cocks were still grinding against each other, his neck exposed, his legs pushing Danny down to him, (“I want you to come on me”), until he couldn't hold back anymore.

The familiar wet feeling on his stomach, warmth spreading in all his body, hands released from the knot but pressing on Danny's shoulders, until the other's wetness added up to his. Lips kissed, limbs relaxed, fingers sucked, tongues tasted.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another sex fic I wrote five years ago. I'm publishing it again, slightly edited.
> 
> The "slutty" perfume Danny wears is Gucci Rush. 
> 
> Tragedy has never destroyed Danny and Alex' lives, so here they are, enjoying their time together. For the first time I'm mentioning something that I developed in the fic "Scar Tissue" (set 15 years after the protagonists' separation): Danny has resumed his education, so now he works and attends evening school.


End file.
